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She has exactly three outfits and this isn’t one of them. It’s a black strapless dress, with a loose skirt about four inches lower than what she’s used to and a size bigger, but she’s not complaining. The one time she saw Gaila in it, the Orion looked so feminine and almost ethereal that Jamie thought wearing it would definitely be her one and only chance to look remotely that way, ever.
It’s not like she thinks about it often. She’s comfortable with who she is. She’s not a lady. She’s not a tomboy. She’s Jamie T. Kirk and she doesn’t fit the standards of anybody, doesn’t fit quite anywhere really, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She wears skirts and shorts and heels without minding them much—she does exactly the same things she’d do with a pair of sweatpants and sneakers and, alright, things much more interesting too, but the point is she’s never worn any of that to impress someone in particular. Sure, she’s always dressed to kill; it’s her way to dare the world to judge her for it, to treat her like the slut everybody thinks she is after taking just one brief glance at her.
This is the first time she actually wants to dress for someone and, of course, with her luck, it has to be for the one man that won’t look at her twice, not in the way she wants him to.
She sighs, doesn’t even bother checking her reflection in the mirror before putting on her blue stilettos and clicking her way down the corridor of her dorm.
Maybe it’s for the best, the fact that Bones seems to be the only straight man immune to Kirk’s charm. It’s for the best, she repeats to herself, because if he weren't—hell, if Bones looked at her with lust in his intense, fiery green-hazel eyes just once, just for one second, Jamie would be right on her knees, doing whatever he wanted her to do, for as long as he wanted—this friendship they have going, it’d go down the drain so fast there would be no saving it.
There’s quite some whistling once she hits the bar. She smiles through it all, though she doesn’t look around to engage in actual flirting. She’s not going out to hunt tonight. This is her and Bones’ night so she’s only here to drink and chat and she won’t be paying any attention to anyone but the doctor for as long as she can keep him there.
Any other time, she’d look for someone once Bones was gone. If there was still someone willing, male or female or otherwise, she’d spend the rest of the night with them. But not tonight, no. Tonight she wants to save it, to savor it, to keep the memory of Bones and Bones alone on her mind. Tonight is their night, even if Bones never knows about it, even if this isn’t a real date.
As she approaches their usual booth, she plants another type of smile on her face and it’s almost easy, almost a real one. Everything is easy around Bones and everything is so hard as well. She can only bite her cheek and watch him as he charmingly rejects an invitation from a short but lovely brunette who moves gracefully and laughs openly in all the ways Jamie hates and envies so much, because she’s not like that, she’s never going to be like that and she’s stuck between being a woman and being too fucking wary to open herself in such a way.
She couldn’t have Bones even if she tried—this she knows well, she’s been around enough nights to notice the surreptitious but still noticeable pattern of her friend’s wistful staring. She’s not his type, she’s never going to be.
And she’s never going to be called ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’ by Bones, because she’s only Jamie to him, his obnoxious and easy best friend with whom he puts up with for reasons no one including herself understands, because Jamie is neither of those things.
“Jamie!” Bones spots her, quirks up one corner of his mouth and doesn’t give the dress one fraction of attention, of course, “You’re early. Is there anything I should be worried about?”
Oh, you have no idea. “Bones,” she grins, happy to notice whatever girl that was bothering Bones is now gone, “Why would you think that? I’ve done nothing to worry you, trust me.”
“Yeah,” Bones rolls his eyes, not even affected by her baby blues at trying to play coy and innocent, “This week, I give you that. Now sit down already, let me get you a drink.”
“Just a beer, please.”
He goes away already muttering under his breath, she can tell, about the junk she prefers to drink, his own shot untouched on the table.
Once he’s back, everything goes okay for a while, until it’s her turn to go for the drinks and she decides to order another beer and have a glass of that bourbon Bones seems to be so fond of so she has to bring everything on a tray and lean down to put it on the table.
For a moment, Bones’ eyes are focused on the contents of it and she can tell he’s ready to comment on it when he looks up and physically jerks from the table, only to come back to yell at her in a way he’s never done before.
The way he tugs at the chain around her neck until he pulls it free with a harsh yank is new, too.
She’s so stunned by it all she doesn’t even hiss at feeling the sting on her nape.
“What the hell is this?” Bones spits out, holding the offending item like he’s personally affronted by its existence.
It’s only then she gets it and knows immediately there’s no way out of this. She’s screwed up so badly she doesn’t know if Bones will ever, ever trust her again with anything, let alone a matter so big as to get rid of his wedding ring for him.
Yeah, his wedding ring. The same ring she’s been wearing as a necklace, hidden beneath her uniform and regular clothes because it was supposed to be a secret, something Bones would never have to know.
Of course she ruined it by being stupid enough to forget about it and putting something that doesn’t cover it on.
“I—“ she rasps, cringing, “I’m sorry, Bones, I wasn’t going to show it to anyone, I swear, I was just—“
She was just what? That’s a question she doesn’t even have an answer to, other than wanting to have something to remember Bones by at moments when they weren’t together and that sounds too unbelievably corny to say out loud and even if she could, what would that say about her to Bones? Would he learn just how badly Jamie’s been crushing on him ever since they met, just harder and harder each time he takes care of her, every time he cares for her?
“You had no right,” he growls, giving her no time to explain what she can’t, “No right to keep this, do you hear me?”
“Yes,” she replies quietly, looking down at the mess their spilled drinks are and when exactly did she begin shaking? “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I should’ve known better than to trust you,” he mutters then, getting his jacket and throwing some credits on the table, “That was my mistake.”
“Bones,” she gasps at his retreating back, “Bones, please, don’t go!”
She follows him outside but knows better than to keep pushing so she just lingers there, trying to catch her own tears before they fall but it makes no difference.
She’s never cried for a man that isn’t her Father, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t it? She can’t believe she brought it on herself, the one thing she doesn’t know how to bear, not yet—being left behind by Bones has always been the real, inevitable end but it was supposed to be later, she was supposed to have time to get ready for it!
When she reaches her dorm, her roomie practically bolts through the door and she spends good solid five minutes laughing about it between her sobs. She wishes she had enough strength to call Gaila, to ask her to hold her in her arms for a while, just hold her and maybe later, much later, make her forget she’s this pathetic, sorry excuse of a woman.
She’s never been good enough to be anything—not enough to be a friend, to be a girlfriend, a sister, a daughter. In the end, she’s always left alone and she should learn how to deal with it. She should know by now, after 23 years of the same, but she doesn’t.
She has no clue, no idea how to deal with loneliness.
She guesses after this, she’ll be back to one night stands and long nights out drinking and getting whatever she can get—Starfleet Cadet or not, she doesn’t care anymore. Half the time she’s been here, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing or why is she doing it at all. It’s not Pike’s dare, not anymore, and Bones’ ring heavy on her skin was an anchor she appreciated more than she can tell, but something that she doesn’t have anymore.
It’s a struggle to get up in the morning, but she manages it. She’s never bothered using Regulation make-up and she won’t be starting now, though it’d come in handy to cover the hours she didn’t sleep and the night she spent thinking how to apologize to Bones because she’s not letting him go, not yet, and she’s going to find something to compensate for what she did.
“Oh, baby,” Gaila coos at her as soon as their class is over, taking her hand and leading her to the bathroom, closing the stall behind them before kissing her sweetly on the mouth, just once, and in the same chaste, tender way in each side of her eyes, “It didn’t go well with him, did it? Your doctor?”
“He’s not—“ she starts, hating how her voice breaks where it does, how she’s about to cry her eyes out all over again, “He’s not my anything, Gaila.”
“Jamie, you know that’s not true, he—“
“Please, just. Just don’t. I don’t want to talk about him,” she pleads, hiding in the crook of her neck as Gaila leans back on the door and hugs her tight, nodding like Jamie knew she would.
She loses track of time for a bit. It’s time for lunch by the time they get out of the bathroom and people are definitely staring at them.
There’s a particularly sour Uhura just by the door but whatever she was going to shout at them—at her, actually, since Gaila is her roomie and friend and Jamie is the exact opposite of that—gets lost on her mouth as she takes one look at her, blinks, and sets her lips in an unusual kind of purse.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Jamie?” Gaila asks, setting some stray locks out of her face, looking at her with worry she's done nothing to deserve.
Jamie doesn’t trust herself to talk, not with Uhura right there, if not all judgmental and tall on her moral superiority as she always is then pitying her in a way Jamie sure as hell doesn’t need, so she nods and kisses Gaila’s cheek as both thank you and goodbye and walks away.
She goes back for her afternoon classes, doesn’t miss a single one. She doesn’t want Pike on her ass about skiving off, not so soon, and the distraction is a welcomed one anyway. She even manages to scribble down some papers she should read on her PADD before they’re over.
It’s both a good and a bad thing it’s not a day she teaches Hand-to-Hand. Good, because she doesn’t think she has the strength and bad because it’d be great to have a reason to be strong, just for a little while.
She goes straight to her room, skipping dinner just as she skipped lunch and breakfast. She doesn’t want to find out who’s eating with Bones now that she’s out of the picture, even if she’s just momentarily out and about to throw herself back in by sheer force of will.
Her stomach is grumbling by the time she falls asleep.
She forces herself to go for a road trip on one of the Academy bikes the next day. It’s the weekend already and in the mindset she’s in, there’s not really anything else she can do, so she puts on some shorts and a tank top. It’s not until she’s tying up her hair that she notices the slight burn the chain she’s not wearing anymore left at being ripped from her neck.
It doesn’t hurt, not really, but she can’t help but stare at it. She almost wishes it could stay there to remind her to think things ahead, to stop being so dumb even though it’ll heal in another day or two.
She stops in a park near campus, lies down on the grass with her skin conveniently sheltered by the shade of a tree.
She still hasn’t figured out how to approach Bones again and no matter how much she’s pedaled it keeps bugging her. There has to be something she can do, she just hasn’t thought of it yet.
She’s half-way to falling asleep when a familiar hand on her shoulder rouses her. She sits quickly and almost can’t believe what she’s seeing, only does it because she wants it to be true.
“Bones,” she breathes out, stares at the clear image of him kneeling beside her, “You’re here.”
The why in her voice goes unsaid, but Bones hears it. He sighs, shaking his head and says meekly, “I am. Could you turn around for me for a second, Jamie? I brought you something.”
She frowns, confused, but does as she’s told. She’s not expecting anything, far from it, really, so the silver necklace Bones secures on her neck comes as a big surprise, even bigger than his fingers lightly tracing the scratched skin there. Once he’s done, she blinks several times and picks it up reverently with her fingers, feeling the slight but palpable weight of it on her hand, learning to know it for what it is; a gift from Bones—her first, best friend—her first, only love.
It’s a little star, a miniature Sun made of silver and zircons. The chain is a lot more delicate than the one she had for holding Bones’ ring and the length of it it’s just the right one for it to hang above her cleavage.
She’s just forming the words to thank him and gush over it but only gets as far as to smile brightly at him before he looks to the side, looking for all the world as if he’s the one at fault in this.
“I’m sorry, Jamie,” he says, finally sitting by her side but still facing away from her, “For what I said, for what I did. I didn’t mean it. I was just… pissed. I should’ve reacted better. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” she says, daring to lean on his shoulder while holding her breath, “I shouldn’t have done it. I promise I won’t do anything like that again.”
He sighs again, ragged and deep, before putting an arm around her shoulders and supporting his chin on her head. Jamie wants to ask what it is, because she can tell something's going on, wants to push and find out, but doesn’t.
She touches the pendant with the tip of her fingers, smiling to herself and more than a bit amazed at how well Bones knows her, how he could tell this was exactly what she needed.
“Bones?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. You’re the greatest.”
She won’t worry about the future. Not now, not yet. She will cherish this for as long as she has it and then and only then, when it’s not there anymore, she’ll figure out what to do.
She always does.
